


Scars

by galaxystiel



Series: 100 Ways To Say 'I Love You' [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chef Castiel (Supernatural), Homeless Castiel, M/M, Past Domestic Violence, Police Officer Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 06:38:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16781605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxystiel/pseuds/galaxystiel
Summary: Five times Castiel bares his scars to Dean, and one time Dean returns the favour.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> **#90** "You can tell me anything." of [100 Ways To Say 'I Love You'](http://blueeyedangel.co.vu/100ways)

****Art by the amazing and talented[sketchydean](http://sketchydean.tumblr.com)** **

**1.**

“Great,” Officer Dean Winchester muttered as it began to rain. “This is all your fault, Benny, you know that right?”

“How’d you figure that one, brother? I ain’t exactly in charge of the weather. If I was, I’d make damn sure I’d be wealthier than I am.” His partner looked affronted.

“Oh yeah, don’t give me that ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ crap. You were all like ‘I miss Louisiana, Kansas is too dry for these old Bayou bones, I need a bit of rainfall every now and again.”

Benny folded his arms, pursing his lips at the terrible impression of his accent. “And I stand by that assessment but that don’t mean I wanted to chill my ‘Bayou bones’ to the core while I’m on duty. If anythin’ this is your fault, Mr. I-Don’t-Want-To-Leave-My-Precious-Car-On-The-Street-So-Let’s-Walk-From-Here. Now we have to trek back to the damn car in torrential downpour.”

Dean rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He did pick up the pace though, not wanting to be caught in the rain any longer than he had to. Rounding the corner, his gaze fell on a dark shape huddled up against one of the buildings. He caught Benny’s eyes and gestured with a nod of his head.

“I’m gonna move him on, he can’t stay out here in this. He’s not even under shelter.”

Benny murmured his agreement, sympathy evident in his tone. He hung back as Dean approached the bundle of clothes, clicking on his flashlight.

“Sir? You can’t stay out here. C’mon, I’ll buy you a coffee and we’ll find you a shelter for tonight.”

No response. Dean’s gaze sharpened as the homeless man didn’t even acknowledge his words. He edged closer, squinting through the heavy rainfall to the unresponsive man and then shrugging back at his partner.

“Sir? Can you hear me? Is everything okay?”

Dean crouched, the light illuminating startling blue eyes that were staring flatly at the wall, tears mingling with raindrops. Against his common sense, Dean felt his heart soften for the poor soul that had found himself in such an awful position. When he’d grown up, Dean had Sam and the Impala. He’d never been truly homeless and he’d never been so alone that he’d had nobody to turn to.

It was empathy that overpowered his common sense as he reached out, grasping the man on the shoulder.

The reaction was instant and violent, and the man lashed out. Dean saw a glint of silver in the light of his torch followed by a stinging sensation in his arm.

“Fuck,” he hissed, stepping back and going for his gun. “Knife!”

Benny charged forward, his own weapon drawn, but he followed Dean’s next command not to shoot.

Before Dean could give any further commands, clarity returned to the blue eyes. He looked at the knife and at the guns and then tossed it aside quickly.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I didn’t mean to. I… I’m sorry.”

Benny scoffed. “Sure you didn’t. Get on your knees with your hands behind your head and don’t even twitch. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” The man whispered, flinching as the handcuffs circled his wrists. “My pack…”

“I got him.” Dean assured Benny. “Search the pack. Check for contraband.”

Benny went through the pack. There was nothing of interest, no drugs or contraband. Just a few hastily packed items of clothing and a wallet. He plucked the ID from the wallet, looking at it for a moment.

“Castiel Novak. That you?”

The homeless man nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”

“This your address?”

Dean noted the immediate tension wracked through Castiel’s body and the way his jaw clenched as he shook his head. He immediately wanted to know more about who lived in that house now. “No. I don’t have an address.” He closed his mouth and refused to say anything else, refused to answer any more questions and stood stiffly through a pat down. He didn’t speak again until he was bundled into the back seat of the car.

“I really am sorry. I know that doesn’t change anything. I never meant to hurt you. I… I wasn’t even aware you were there until you touched me.”

“You don’t like to be touched?”

“No,” Castiel replied flatly. “Not any more.”

Dean let Benny drive them back to the precinct, while he cleaned out the wound on his arm, treating and dressing the wound as carefully as he could. It was shallow, not more than a scratch really. Even so, he couldn’t stop his gaze from flickering to the back seat as he kept a close eye on Castiel.

Castiel was handed off to custody once they got back to the precinct, and Dean and Benny both went to shower and change into clean clothes. Plain clothes, since they’d finished their beat and were now officially off-duty. Dean brushed off any objections Benny raised about his arm and made for his desk and soon as he was able, clutching an evidence bag containing Castiel’s ID as he looked up the address.

He read through the page silently, barely noticing when Benny dropped into the opposite chair that served as his own desk.

“It’s knockin’ off time. You know, the time I go home to my beautiful wife and you go to the hospital.” Benny told him pointedly. “Novak will spend a night in the cells and he’ll be processed in the morning. You can give your statement tomorrow.”

“I’m not pressing charges,” Dean mumbled. “He was clearly frightened out of his mind. Did you hear how much he kept apologising?”

Benny folded his arms and glared. “Well shit, that makes it all better. I must have missed the part of the academy where they taught us an apology negates _a crime_. I can’t even believe I’m hearing this. He had a knife, Dean. A knife! Nobody who carries a blade like that is carrying it for a good reason.”

“I don’t agree. Look at this,” Dean turned his monitor around to show Benny the screen. “I searched for the address on his driver’s licence. Seventeen times the neighbours have called 911 for suspected domestic abuse. And that’s just in the last six months. There are dozens more. The guy was freaking the hell out because he thought this asshole boyfriend or whatever was coming after him. Read it, and then come join me in the interview room.”

He paused to get two cups of coffee from the machine, walking into the interview room. There was a spark of recognition in Castiel’s eyes before he averted his gaze.

“I feel like this is a conflict of interest.”

“It would be if I were pressing charges,” Dean replied conversationally, setting the coffees down. “That one has milk, that one has sugar. I’ll take whichever you don’t.”

Castiel hesitated for a moment and then reached for the one with sugar. “Thank you.” As his hands grasped the paper cup, Dean noticed slivers of silver around his fingers.

“How’d you get those scars?”

Pausing, Castiel spent a moment lightly sweeping his thumb over one of the larger scars and then he shrugged. “I used to be a chef. Knives are sharp. It happens.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You were a chef? Of what, your own restaurant?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to it?”

“Nothing. It’s still there.”

Dean leaned back against the chair with a sigh. It was like getting blood from a stone. “This will go a lot smoother if you just answer my questions. I’m not trying to trick you, I want to understand your circumstances before you got to where you are now.”

Castiel fixed him with a long gaze and then eventually nodded. “Very well. I handed over the reins to my sous chef indefinitely.”

“What prompted you to make that choice? It seems like something you enjoyed, you’re still touching the scars on your fingers.”

Hands stilling at being caught out, Castiel took a moment to reply. “So I could spend more time with my partner.”

“And was that your choice?”

The tension was back. Castiel’s hands clenched into fists and he struggled to fight back a reply to that. It took a moment for him to relax and his hands to unfurl. Eventually he reached for the coffee again to give his hands something to do, taking a sip and cradling the cup.

“I suppose that depends on how you look at it,” Castiel replied eventually, his voice tight. “I made the decision, but is it really a choice when it’s the only option? You must be an excellent detective, to have me all figured out so quickly.”

Ah. Dean shook his head, trying to placate the angering man in front of him. “Not at all. Like I said, I’m trying to understand your situation. Context is everything.”

“You can try to make sense of my situation all you like, Officer, but not everything fits neatly into a box.”

It was possible that Castiel would have gotten more hostile at the line of questioning, but the door opened and Benny stepped inside, interrupting anything either of them might have said. He settled down across from Castiel clutching his own cup of coffee, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You were pretty out of it when it when we found you. Checked out mentally, almost. You on any medication? Prescription or otherwise.”

“No.”

“But you are living on the streets.”

“Yes.”

“Nowhere else to go? Nobody you can turn to?”

“No.”

“Everyone has someone.”

Castiel hesitated. “Gabriel. He’s the sous chef at my restaurant. He would let me stay with him if I asked but… I can’t. It’s not a matter of pride, it’s a matter of my safety. And his.”

Benny’s eyes lost the last of their suspicion at Castiel’s words and he gave a brief nod towards Dean. “Get yourself home, brother. I’ll take care of this.” He turned to Castiel, who was clutching at his coffee cup as if it might be taken away from him. “You’re free to go.”

“Just like that?”

“You can collect your belongings from the front, minus the knife. I’ll make sure you get some bus fare and the address of a shelter somewhere in town.”

Dean lingered in the doorway of the interview room, wanting to say something. It didn’t feel right to leave it like this. Castiel was in need of help, and they were just going to send him back onto the streets. Shelters filled up on a first come first serve basis and it was already late. But Castiel was already on his feet, drinking the last of his coffee and Dean ducked out of the way, letting him through.

He watched Benny lead him to the custody reception and felt a sense of conflict within himself. This didn’t feel like doing his duty at all. This felt like failure.

Dean sighed and trudged back to the locker room to collect the rest of his belongings. A couple of beers and he’d feel better.

* * *

**2.**

“Sure you don’t need a ride?” Dean asked Benny, jingling his car keys enticingly. “It’s still raining, I don’t mind dropping you off.”

“I’m good, brother, Andrea’s gonna get her brother to pick me up, we’re headin’ up her cabin for the weekend.”

Dean grinned. “Right, right, heading to the love shack. I forgot all about it. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That’s my wife you’re makin’ insinuations about, Winchester, don’t make me teach you some manners!” Benny called after him, but Dean just snorted and waved him off. He knew Benny didn’t mean it. That was the best thing about their partnership. They were friends too. When Andrea and Benny eventually conceived, Dean would be godfather. Benny was like a brother to him as much as Sam was.

The rain was still heavy when Dean edged the Impala out of the parking lot. He bit his lip, thinking how cold and uncomfortable it would have been for Castiel if he’d spent the night on the street. Hopefully he’d make it to the shelter without issue.

Dean was caught up in his thoughts, but not so caught up that he missed the sight of Castiel huddled up in a bus shelter. He pulled up at the side of the road and lowered the window, looking over at him.

“No bus due?”

Castiel shook his head. “Not for another hour. I wasn’t going to get on it anyway. The shelter is full. No beds. The nice redheaded woman at reception called for me. I told her I’d crash with a friend.”

“But you’re not going to,” Dean finished his sentence, disapprovingly. “Get in the car. You can stay at my place for tonight. We’ll get you set up in the shelter tomorrow.”

Castiel didn’t move. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. For a cop, you have very little common sense. What if I robbed you?”

“You’d be an idiot to steal from a cop,” Dean replied dryly. “Especially one you just assaulted with a deadly weapon. That’s not even a misdemeanour, that’s a felony right there. You wouldn’t even get probation, you’d skip straight to jail time. Nobody is that stupid. You steal from me, I bring charges for both crimes.”

Castiel didn’t reply, and Dean sighed. This wasn’t exactly how he was expecting his moment of kindness to go.

“Castiel, please get in the car. I have a spare room. You can spend the night in a real bed, eating real food and take advantage of my shower with the amazing water pressure. Are you really going to turn that down just because you don’t like me?”

Something seemed to get through to Castiel, because he slid into the back seat of the car, clutching his pack tightly. “It’s not that I don’t like you,” he muttered. “I just don’t understand your motivation and it makes me uneasy.”

“I don’t have any motivation than helping someone out who needs it. You’re not the first guy I’ve put up for the night over the years and you probably won’t be the last.”

Castiel didn’t reply at first, just buckled himself in. Dean fought the urge to point out he could sit up front, figuring maybe they’d both feel a little safer with Castiel in the back right now. They didn’t know each other very well.

The car ride back to Dean’s home was filled with an awkward tension. Dean turned the radio on but attempts to pry into Castiel’s music interests were met with dismissive shrugs. Instead, he flicked it back to his classic rock mixtape and let that play instead.

They relaxed a little when Dean pulled up outside his childhood home, the house he and Sam had inherited from his parents. He’d bought Sam out years ago, the house now solely his while Sam had enough money to put a deposit down for a house not too far away with Jessica. It all worked out perfectly, with Dean getting to keep the house he’d grown up in. It was well taken care of, because Dean was nothing if not house proud.

“You have a lovely home,” Castiel muttered as he climbed out of the car. “You live here alone?”

“Yep,” Dean shrugged, hanging back to lock the Impala. The rain was still coming down heavily, so he ducked into the porch before fishing through his pockets for his keys. “Just me.”

Inside, Dean watched as Castiel hovered in the doorway, kicking off his shoes and taking off his jacket. He looked soaked the bone and his teeth were chattering. Dean softened.

“Here, let me take those,” Castiel’s hands tightened at the words. “I’m gonna put your jacket in the laundry and find somewhere to dry your boots. You head upstairs. The bathroom is the second door on the right. Put your clothes outside and I’ll leave you some fresh ones.”

There was a pause, and then Castiel relinquished his grasp on his jacket. “Thank you,” he replied quietly. “I appreciate this. A shower sounds perfect.”

“I’ll start on dinner when you get out. Anything you particularly like?”

Castiel cleared his throat. “Anything is fine. I won’t be too long.”

Dean shrugged. “There’s plenty of hot water, and there should be clean towels in there already. Take as long as you like and use anything you need. There’s a spare razor in the cabinet if you’d like to shave. Come find me in the kitchen when you’re done.”

He set Castiel boots under the radiator, switching it on. It wasn’t cold exactly, but Dean knew Castiel must be freezing. When the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing drew his attention, Dean headed up to gather up the wet clothes. He replaced them with some sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt that used to belong to Sam. It would be too big for Castiel, but it would keep him warm.

He’d just gotten back to the kitchen from the basement and was perusing his cupboards when there was a cough behind him. Dean jumped, whirling around and hand automatically flying to where his gun would normally be. His heart thudded even as he registered it was Castiel, clean and with damp hair and freshly shaven. “Jesus, we need to get you a bell or something, Cas.”

There was a moment of victory as, for the first time, Dean saw the corner of Castiel’s mouth tug upwards in an almost smile. “Sure. I was going to ask if you’d like me to make dinner.”

“You don’t have to do that. You’re the guest –”

“Exactly. A guest. Not a charity case,” Castiel interrupted. “I’d like to do something to earn my bed for the night. Besides, you just found out I was a chef. Are you really going to turn down the chance to try my food and decide if I’m any good?”

Dean hesitated. He _was_ curious…

“Alright. Use whatever you need and if you have something in mind, I can head out the store…” He trailed off as Castiel was already shaking his head, opening the fridge and then the cupboards, cataloguing what was there.

“I can make something out of what you have,” Castiel waved him away, all but shooing him out of the kitchen.

Dean decided not to point out that was his house because it was clear that Castiel had instantly forgotten him, lost in the methodical task of designing a dish. Dean stuck around and watched as Castiel began gathering ingredients together, humming softly.

A soft smile on his face, Dean left him to it, heading up to make up the guest bed. He should feel wary about leaving Castiel alone in his kitchen with access to an abundance of knives, but he didn’t. Even without the gun in his waistband, Dean knew he had nothing to fear. That Castiel wasn’t the type of person to hurt someone on purpose. The knife thing had been an accident, nothing more.

He took his time making up the bed, giving Castiel space to cook while Dean ensured he had everything he needed. A spare toothbrush. Deodorant. Freshly laundered pyjamas.

Dean headed back downstairs and peeked into the kitchen to see how Castiel was getting on. He looked at peace, concentrating solely on his task of preparing dinner. Dean could see something bubbling in a pan and he peered over Castiel’s shoulder.

“Pasta? I didn’t think I had any pasta.”

“You didn’t. I made some fettuccini,” Castiel hummed, ducking past Dean to grab a chopping board, scraping minced garlic into a frying pan. “You had lots of flour and eggs, so I figured I’d make up a dish I used to serve in the restaurant. Pasta with shrimp, mushrooms and bell peppers in an alfredo sauce. There’s also a garlic flatbread in the oven too.”

Dean blinked. He hadn’t been upstairs _that_ long and Castiel hadn’t even made a mess. The last time Dean had made bread, there had been flour all up the cabinets for days.

“Wow. You’re efficient.”

“I’m good at my job,” Castiel amended, quietly. “It’s what I love to do. I’ve always cooked for myself. It makes me happy.”

Dean could hear the loss and regret in his tone and reached out to gently squeeze Castiel’s shoulder. He didn’t know what to say that would make it all better, so he offered comfort in the gentle touch and considered it a win when Castiel didn’t shrug him off.

“Should I set the table?”

Castiel nodded. “Please. I won’t be much longer. Ten minutes.”

When they settled down to eat, Dean couldn’t shake off the peaceful feeling of domesticity. When was the last time he had a homecooked meal? He couldn’t remember, often too tired from his shift to cook so he’d pick up burgers on the way home, or microwave something quick. Only on his days off or the occasions Benny and Andrea invited him for dinner did he get any kind of nutrients.

He took a careful bite of the food, wary of what it could taste like. The moan that escaped him at the positively sinful flavour was unstoppable. The creamy alfredo sauce flavoured with the earthy mushrooms and sweetness of the bell pepper was amazing. The pasta was something out of this world. Dean didn’t think he’d ever had fresh pasta. He’d never be able to have the dried stuff again.

Swallowing, he took an extra-large bite, reaching for some of the flatbread. “It’s so good,” he mumbled around the mouthful. “Best I’ve ever had.”

“I’m honoured,” Castiel replied dryly, twirling his own pasta around his fork expertly. “Thank you for this. For allowing me to cook for you, and for inviting me to spend the night in your guest room. Not everyone would be so accommodating, especially after I attacked you.”

Dean swallowed his food. “You were scared. I might not have all the answers regarding your situation, but I don’t need them. I don’t think you’re a bad person and I don’t think you’re a criminal.”

Castiel stared at him across the table and Dean could feel the weight of the calculating gaze. “Thank you,” he said eventually.

“Can I ask you a question?” Dean asked, suddenly. He didn’t want to ruin their meal or possibly make Castiel angry, but he did want to understand. “You don’t have to answer, of course.”

Castiel nodded, warily.

“You said you owned your own restaurant and you left your sous chef in charge. You should still be getting money, right? A salary or profits or whatever. So –”

“Why am I on the streets?” Castiel finished for him. “I guess I’m a little paranoid that he’ll track me down. I checked into a hotel the night I left him, and he found me. I climbed down the fire escape. I want more than anything to go back to work. To get my own place and be free again. The restaurant is the first place he’ll look for me. It’s not safe to go back.”

Castiel lowered his head, pulling back his hairline to show a thin white scar that would have been almost invisible if Dean hadn’t been looking for it.

“This was what he gave me the first time I left him. He slammed my head into the door and left me with a concussion. He won’t find me again.”

Dean could feel the rage building up inside him at the injustice, the disgusting actions of someone who claimed to love the man sitting opposite him. This was abuse, pure and simple, and this douchebag of epic proportions belonged in a cell.

“I’m tired,” Castiel’s words interrupted the red haze descending behind Dean’s eyes. He was forcing himself not to track down Castiel’s ex-partner and arrest him. “And it’s late. If it’s okay with you, I’ll turn in? It’ll be nice to sleep in a bed again.”

“Of course,” Dean replied automatically. “I’m an early riser but I’ll try not to disturb you. Your room is all made up. Goodnight, Cas.”

Castiel looked at him wearily. “Good night, Officer.”

“Dean,” he corrected automatically. “You can call me Dean. I’m not a cop right now. Just… a friend.”

Castiel hesitated, before acknowledging the words with a slow nod. “Dean, then. Sleep well.”

He left the room, and Dean listened to the sounds of his footsteps padding up the stairs sadly, wishing there was something he could do.

* * *

**3.**

“Cas?” Dean called out, letting the door click closed behind him. “You here?”

Silence met his words and Dean hummed, sliding off his coat. It had been around three months since Castiel had moved in with him. After that first night, Dean had driven him to the shelter but had been unable to leave him there. The sight of the communal rooms filled with cots had been pitiful and Dean wished he could make a difference for everyone there. While that wasn’t possible, he could make a small difference for Castiel.

So Dean had invited him to move in. Temporarily, until Castiel got back on his feet. They’d get him set up with another job if he couldn’t go back to the restaurant, but that was a last resort. First and foremost, they’d needed to deal with Castiel’s ex.

Dean hadn’t even needed to ask. The second he’d explained it all to Benny, his partner had known exactly what was coming and volunteered to help. They’d gone to Castiel’s old address and put the fear of God into the abusive son of a bitch. Then they’d taken everything that belonged to Castiel that hadn’t been able to fit in his pack the night he’d left.

When Dean and Benny got back with Castiel’s clothes and some sentimental items, Castiel had burst into tears, throwing himself into Dean’s arms. Benny had excused himself with a significant look at Dean that he’d chosen to ignore, winding his arms around Castiel and letting him get it all out.

It meant he could go back to work at his restaurant, and so he had. The difference in Castiel once he’d started working again was unbelievable. He glowed. Even when he worked ridiculously long hours, coming home after midnight with sore feet and aching limbs, he was smiling. Dean hardly recognized him from the shell of a man he’d found on the streets three months ago.

They’d become fast friends since then. Dean found a companionship in Castiel that he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing. They had fun together, educating each other on their favourite movies and trying new experiences together. Dean had eaten snails for dinner a few nights ago – they were delicious until he found out what they were – and Castiel spent some time each night listening to the Zeppelin mix tape Dean had made him.

The sound of the key in the lock behind Dean drew his attention and he smiled widely as Castiel entered the house. Dean had finished early and Castiel had the night off, so they were planning to get takeout and watch _Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom_. He was already looking forward to telling Castiel that the monkey brain dessert was more preferable than the snails he’d served up. He’d be teasing, of course.

“Hey! Did you order food?”

“Right here,” Castiel lifted the bag. “Beef and broccoli for you, and lo mein for me. You just get home?”

Dean nodded. “Couple of minutes ago. You get forks, I’ll put the movie on.”

Castiel smiled at him and disappeared into the kitchen. Dean had a spring in his step as he dug out his copy of the second Indiana Jones movie. Dropping onto the couch, he took his box of food and dug in eagerly.

He was aware of Castiel looking at him after a moment, and he looked up. “Is there something on my face?”

“Huh? No,” Castiel shook his head, chewing on his lip. “I just… I have something to tell you, but I don’t know how to say it.”

Dean softened. “You can tell me anything.”

He felt nervous as Castiel nodded, taking a deep breath. What was so bad that Castiel felt nervous about telling him? Had his ex-partner turned up? Had Castiel decided to go back to him?

“I went to look at an apartment today.”

Dean blinked. He opened his mouth but closed it again when he realised he didn’t know how to react to that. It was news to him that Castiel was even looking for an apartment, let alone had gone to view one.

“Oh. That’s nice. What was it like?”

“It was great,” Castiel admitted. “Good amenities, great kitchen. Lots of space, and it’s in a pretty good neighbourhood. Close to the restaurant.”

Dean shovelled another forkful of food into his mouth, but everything now tasted bland and slimy. He forced himself to swallow, setting the box to one side. His appetite was suddenly long gone.

“Are you going to take it?”

Castiel looked down at his food, suddenly really interested in twirling his noodles. “I already did.”

“Oh. Congratulations?”

“Thanks.”

Dean felt a hefty weight in his stomach, and he tried to push it down. So what if he didn’t want Castiel to go? It wasn’t about what _he_ wanted. They’d always said this was temporary. Besides, he’d still get to see Castiel, it wasn’t like they’d be strangers. They just wouldn’t be living under the same roof anymore.

So why couldn’t he ever muster up a smile and show that he was happy for the guy? Dean chose his next words carefully.

“This is what you want? You’re not just rushing to be considerate or anything, right? You know you have an open invitation to stay here?”

Castiel smiled sadly. “I know. But I can’t stay here forever. I think this is the right thing to do.”

Dean couldn’t manage any words. He simply nodded and looked back at the television. Normally he was always up for an Indiana Jones marathon but right now he didn’t think he could bear to look at Harrison Ford’s stupid fedora for a single second longer.

“It’s been… real nice, having someone around the house,” Dean muttered, eventually. “Gonna be weird, coming home to an empty place again. I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’ll miss you.”

A warm hand touching his cheek was the only reply. Dean looked up at the tender touch, only to find Castiel’s blue eyes only inches away from his own. He licked his lips, trying to find the words speak, but soft lips covered his own and swallowed anything he might have said.

Closing his eyes, Dean reached out to curve his hand around the back of Castiel’s neck, bringing him in closer and deepening the kiss. He’d never considered kissing Castiel before this moment, but now it was happening, Dean wondered how he could have overlooked this the whole time. It felt right. It felt the way that Castiel living with him did.

It was only going to hurt that much more when Castiel left.

But Dean would let him go, because that was the right thing to do.

When they broke apart, he was staring at Castiel with awe and a little bit of heat. Slowly, Castiel’s hands unknotted from his hair and he cleared his throat.

“Well, that was… something.”

“I think they call it a kiss.” Dean replied, automatically.

Castiel shoved him, lightly. “I know it was a kiss, dumbass. What I meant was… maybe we could go out on a date sometime.”

Dean’s mouth went dry, any comeback he might have summoned completely forgotten. “I’d like that.”

Castiel nodded, happily. “Good. Now let’s watch the movie.”

Turning back to the movie, Dean wondered how he was supposed to focus on the screen when his heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest, or like he was going to burst out into song. But he resisted the urge and soon fell back into fascination with the plot of one of his favourite movies.

He spent the rest of the night with Castiel curled up against his side and Dean swore he felt lighter than air. He was the epitome of respectful, knowing Castiel still didn’t like to be touched without warning. It was hard to get him to calm down if he got worked up. An unexpected touch or a loud noise could set Castiel off and he would retreat into his room and lock the door until he calmed down. No amount of talking could persuade him to come out earlier. Dean didn’t want that to happen tonight.

“I’m gonna turn in,” Dean told him shortly after midnight. “Back at work tomorrow. Can I kiss you goodnight?”

Castiel looked pleased that he’d asked and nodded. Dean took the opportunity to lean in and press his lips softly to the corner of Castiel’s mouth, lingering for just a moment.

“Good night, Cas,” he breathed.

“Good night,” Castiel replied, his cheeks pink.

Dean made his way to bed after completing his nightly rituals, but shortly after he’d slid under the covers, his stomach rumbled. His thoughts wandered longingly towards the beef and broccoli he’d abandoned earlier, and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted a snack.

He slid out bed silently, not wanting to disturb Cas. He’d probably have fallen asleep by now. Dean would just quickly slip downstairs and bring his food up to bed. Padding to the door, Dean cracked it open quietly and stepped out, immediately tripping over a squishy object.

“Ooof!”

“ _Ow!_ ”

Dean stopped, steadying himself against the wall. “Castiel?”

Silence. Then, “Yeah,” the resigned voice replied. “It’s me.”

“Why are you outside my door, lying on the floor?” Dean asked, fingers fumbling for the light switch and flicking it on.

Castiel didn’t answer, just curled his knees against his chest, looking anywhere but at Dean. It was obvious that he didn’t want to tell the truth.

Dean knelt, reaching out tentatively towards Castiel, making sure he could see Dean’s hands so he wouldn’t be startled. “Cas, what is it? Are you sick?”

Castiel shook his head, tears filling his eyes as he sniffled. “It’s pathetic. I’m pathetic. I just… sometimes I do this. When I feel like everything is getting to me, and I don’t want to be alone. So I… I sleep outside the door. I always go back to bed before you get up, so you never notice.”

Overcome, Dean gathered Castiel into his arms and hugged him tightly. “Hey, there’s nothing pathetic about you. You went through a lot and you need to take time to heal. Why didn’t you wake me up if you were struggling? You don’t have to be alone.”

Castiel wound himself around Dean and melted into the embrace, not answering the question. Dean just held him tightly, stroking his hair and waiting until Castiel felt able to speak. “You want to sleep in my room tonight? Just sleep, I promise. You don’t have to sleep out here on the floor.”

“I don’t want to be a burden –”

“Really, Cas? You kissed me tonight. I declared my romantic intentions, or however you want to put it. I _care_ about you. You’re not a burden, and I like to snuggle sometimes too, damnit.”

A snort cut Dean off from any further ranting, and then Castiel was giggling uncontrollably, holding his sides. Unable to help it, Dean began to laugh too, recognising the silliness of what he’d just said. It was hardly his idea of masculine, but he didn’t regret the admission. They held each other and laughed, long and hard, and when the giggles finally went away, Dean leaned forward and kissed Castiel’s forehead.

“Come to bed?”

Castiel nodded, smiling softly. He took the opposite side of Dean’s bed, crawling in next to him and laying his head on Dean’s chest. Absently, Dean found himself playing with strands of Castiel’s hair as they lay in silence. He knew Castiel well enough to know that there was something else he needed to get off his chest and was building himself up to it.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to move out.” The words were whispered, like Castiel didn’t have the courage to admit them any louder.

Dean yawned. “Then don’t. You can stay here as long as you like.”

“The apartment is perfect, though,” Castiel sighed. “I’m never going to find one as good for the same price.”

“So take the lease, and you can move out when you’re ready, whether it’s in six months or six years.”

Castiel fell silent. After a moment, Dean glanced down to find that Castiel had fallen asleep, curled against him like a kitten. With a smile, Dean closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him.

* * *

**4.**

Dean looked out of the window at the heavy snow and felt a small amount of glee.

Not just because he liked snow – which he did, he was like a child whenever there was a sprinkling of snow in Kansas – but because of what it meant.

“There’s no way we can load the truck in that,” he sighed.

Castiel came over, joining Dean by the kitchen window and peering out into the blizzard.

“Yeah,” he said quickly. “That’s… not ideal weather to be moving in. It’ll take us forever to load all my stuff, and you know Benny said he would help but he’ll never get here in this. Maybe we should just cancel. The apartment can wait a couple of days.”

Dean agreed, although he still felt the burning disappointment that Castiel still planned to go ahead with his idea of moving out. It had been six months since he’d taken the apartment, and only a month since he said he felt ready to move out. Their relationship had blossomed, loving and healthy. Dean had never been happier, and he was sure Castiel felt the same. To him, it felt like they would be taking a step backwards if Castiel moved out again. It wouldn’t be that long before they’d end up taking the next step and living together again.

“Friday maybe?” Castiel suggested, thinking over his schedule. “Gabriel expressed a want to cover an evening rush again for practice, so I could take the night off.”

“Friday’s no good, I’m on the night shift with Benny. Sunday?”

Castiel shook his head. “We have a delivery coming at the restaurant and I need to showcase the seasonal menu. What about Wednesday.”

“That the sixteenth? We have dinner with Sammy.”

“Right,” Castiel remembered, nodding thoughtfully. “Well, we’ll figure something out tomorrow. We can compare schedules and see when we can make it happen.”

Dean slid his arm around Castiel’s waist from behind and pressed his chin to Castiel’s shoulder. “You know, you could just stay here with me. Move in properly, I mean and give up the apartment.”

He felt Castiel tense in his arms seconds before the reply came. “Dean, we’ve talked about this…”

“Not properly,” Dean disagreed. “Not really. You keep saying no, but you won’t tell me why.”

Castiel pulled away from the touch, positioning his back to the counter so he could watch Dean, annoyance twisting his expression. “I’m asking you not to push me on this.”

“I’m not pushing!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Have I ever said that you can’t move out? Didn’t I tell you that I would help you move your stuff and get Benny to come too? You want to run away so bad, Cas, I’ll help you do it, but don’t get mad at me for trying to understand why.”

“You don’t need to understand,” Castiel snapped. “You just need to accept it. It’s not up for debate, Dean. I’m moving out and that’s final.”

“Then go!” Dean eventually lost his temper. “You know where the door is. If it’s so awful living with me, then leave. But I’m not gonna sit here and pretend it isn’t like a fucking slap in the face that, even though it’s the next natural step for our relationship, you won’t even consider it.”

He turned and stalked out of the room, heading for the bedroom. That wasn’t fair, and Dean kind of regretted losing his temper already. The pain still rang true within him, though, and that spurred him on for him to shut himself in their shared bedroom and lock the door.

It wasn’t fair for him to blame Castiel for his insecurities. They both had their own issues. Abandonment was Dean’s. First the death of his mom, then being abandoned by his dad. Growing up, he’d had Sammy but then Sammy went to college in California. He was back now and they were close again, but those years of silence forever weighed on Dean.

He shouldn’t put that on Castiel, but it was hard not to feel like he was being abandoned when all he was trying to do was move their relationship forward. To him, Castiel was his future. Dean had been in love before but never like this. He could see himself walking down the aisle with Castiel. Could see them growing old together in this very house.

The distance Castiel was putting between them implied that he couldn’t see the same.

A knock on the bedroom door startled Dean. He swiped at his eyes angrily, ridding himself of the tears he hadn’t even known he was shedding.

“Dean, let me in.”

Dean didn’t reply. He didn’t have anything to say.

“Please, I just want to talk. Can we not do this?”

Dean shook his head bitterly. Now Castiel wanted to talk. “Just go, Cas.”

There was silence, and Dean listened to see if Castiel would try again. He didn’t. There was the sound of shuffling feet as Castiel walked away and then there was silence. Dean sighed with relief, lying back on his bed. He didn’t want to fight any more, but that didn’t mean he was ready to talk things through yet either.

He’d give them both some time to calm down and think things through, and then maybe they could solve this like adults.

It was about an hour later when Dean left his bedroom and made his way downstairs to Castiel. They’d missed dinner and the snowfall was still heavy, blanketing the street outside. Maybe he’d try and convince Castiel to bundle up warm and make a snowman with him after they ate.

“Cas, where are you?” Dean called out, sticking his head in the living room.

No reply. He checked the kitchen and the dining room and then made his way back upstairs. The bathroom was empty and so was the guest room. He must have gone out. Dean stuck his head into the garage and saw that the Impala was still there, secured from the elements. If Castiel had gone out, he hadn’t been driving.

Anxiously, Dean checked the coatrack and saw that Castiel’s trench coat wasn’t hanging up in its usual place.

“Damnit!” He swore, snatching up his winter coat and grabbing for his car keys. If Castiel had gone out in that blizzard in only a trench coat, he’d catch his death. Even Dean wouldn’t brave that kind of weather on foot.

It was just as dangerous to drive in. Dean didn’t dare go much over twenty miles per hour in fear of hitting someone. His vision was obscured by the heavy snow fall, which made it next to impossible to scan the streets for Castiel. It was too cold for him to be out in this, he would have made for shelter. But Dean had no idea what time Castiel had left. He could be anywhere.

He turned the Impala around and headed across town to the apartment Castiel had leased. It was his safest space outside of the restaurant. That was probably where he’d be.

He parked the Impala haphazardly outside and jogged up to the building, scanning the numbers and hitting the only buzzer that didn’t have a name. He was so cold, even in this brief moment of exposure to the snow, his teeth were chattering and his nose felt like it was about to drop off.

“Hello?”

“Cas, it’s me. Can I come in? I want to talk.”

The reply was bitter. “Sure, now you want to talk.”

“I do,” Dean replied desperately. “I do. I should have listened to you before and let you into our room. I’m here now and I want to hear whatever you’ve got to say.”

Silence. “Dean –”

Dean cut him off. “I’m gonna lose a couple of toes in a second, can you buzz me in and yell at me inside? It’s freezing.”

There was a click as the door locking mechanism released, and Dean muttered his thanks as he shouldered his way inside. Castiel’s apartment was upstairs, so Dean took the steps three at a time, opening the apartment door without bothering to knock.

“Hey.”

“Hello.” Castiel replied. He looked thoroughly miserable, soaked from head to toe. It reminded Dean of their first meeting and his heart broke all over again.

He stepped forward. “I’m sorry I was such an ass. I didn’t really want you to go.”

“I’m sorry too,” Castiel rasped. “I just couldn’t sit there when you were mad at me and locked in the bedroom. That’s what I was trying to tell you. That’s why I need to move out.”

Dean tried to make sense of the words, but he couldn’t. “I don’t understand.”

“You saved me. I could be rotting in a jail cell, but you forgave me, you took me in off the streets, you got all my stuff back. Made it so I could work again. You loved me and you gave me a place to live. What did I give you in return?”

Swallowing, Dean shook his head. “You love me in return, Cas. I didn’t need anything else from you. I never wanted you to give me anything.”

“But you can’t deny there’s an imbalance in our relationship,” Castiel replied miserably. “I don’t want to live with you because I never managed to get back on my feet. It’s your house and I’m just a guest there. When we move in together, I want it to be _our_ house. I want to belong there too.”

“You do belong there.” Dean felt truly at a loss for words. “I can make changes, Cas. We can redecorate if that’s what you want.”

Castiel shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I went from depending completely on someone I loved, to doing the same thing with you. You’re a better man than he was, but the roof over my head is completely in your hands regardless. I need to know for myself that when you and I move in together, it’s because it felt right. Not because I needed a home.”

Dean lowered his eyes to the floor, a lump in his throat. He understood now. He gave a shaky nod.

“This is important to you.” It wasn’t a question.

“It is.”

“Will you at least come back tonight?” He asked, quietly. “You still have all of your stuff there. I’ll cancel dinner with Sam on Wednesday and rearrange for another time. Weather permitting, we’ll move your stuff in then. But please come back tonight.”

“Of course.” Castiel gave a brief shiver. “It’s not very warm in here. Maybe we could light the fire for a change, and have dinner in front of it?”

Dean nodded and the corner of his mouth turned up. He couldn’t quite manage a smile, but they were trying.

“I love you,” Castiel told him, reaching for his head. Dean accepted it and squeezed it lightly.

“Me too,” Dean replied quietly. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

**5.**

In the end, Castiel lived in his apartment for three months before agreeing to move back in with Dean. They were both ecstatic, although Benny wasn’t too pleased that he had to help move Castiel’s belongings right back where they came from so soon. Even so, he was happy for them and approved completely of their decision to live together.

Dean was overjoyed to have Castiel living with him again. Even though they’d only really spent a few nights apart, he’d hated every second of those nights. Even coming home from work felt miserable on the days where he and Castiel had opposing schedules. Instead of having a warm body to crawl under the covers next to, he had cold sheets and a silent house.

It didn’t feel like home anymore, like the warmth Castiel’s companionship had brought just upped and left when he did.

They both had the rest of the weekend off so they could get Castiel unpacked and settled. The compromise Castiel had asked for was a more modern kitchen, so they planned to go and pick that out at the first opportunity. They were also planning to redecorate the bedroom, the paint cans sitting in the garage. _Kiwi Crush_ , it was called. A vibrant shade of green. Dean hadn’t been convinced but Castiel had sold him on it by telling Dean that it was his favourite colour, almost the exact shade of Dean’s eyes.

The unpacking and painting and shopping could wait for tomorrow. Tonight, Dean planned to celebrate the return of Castiel to their home and they were heading out to dinner at a restaurant they both had been wanting to try. Dressed smartly in button downs and a nice jacket, Dean stared at Castiel across the table, smiling happily.

“What?” Castiel asked, shy from the continued attention. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” Dean assured him, smiling. “I’m just happy to see you.”

Castiel laughed. “You saw me two days ago.”

“But I used to see you every day,” Dean sighed, brightening up quickly. “And now I get to again. Have I told you how happy I am that you agreed to move in with me?”

“Once or twice.” Castiel told him wryly, but was unable to hide his blush or the way his mouth curled up into a pleased smile. “So what’s new? How was work?”

“Fine,” Dean sighed. “Just busy, you know? Lots of paperwork right now, not a lot of patrolling. Benny says Andrea is pleased. She worries when we’re out late.”

“She’s not the only one,” Castiel muttered, digging into his appetiser. “I’m not even a criminal and I could have seriously hurt you the night we met. I have nightmares that you get hurt.”

Dean softened and reached across the table to take Castiel’s free hand. “That’s not gonna happen. I’m careful and you know Benny has my back. Let’s talk about something happier. You know Benny’s cousin Elizabeth is coming to town? She’s looking for a new apartment. I figured we could point her in the direction of yours. It was spacious and cheap right?”

Castiel didn’t answer immediately, and Dean looked back up from his food when he didn’t answer. “Cas?”

“I… the apartment isn’t available yet. Maybe we should point her in the direction of another place?”

Dean hesitated. He could let it go and not push, it wasn’t unreasonable that the apartment wouldn’t be put immediately up for another lease. The owner might want to clean it or redecorate or any number of reasons. But from the startled look on Castiel’s face, there was something he wasn’t saying.

“Why isn’t the apartment available?”

Castiel swallowed, averting his gaze. He had a look of a deer caught in headlights and was obviously struggling to answer. “I’m still leasing it,” he whispered eventually.

Dean let that sink in and he released Castiel’s hand, pulling his own back across the table. He felt something cold settle in his chest and was struggling to find a way to reply. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t end my lease when I agreed to move in with you.”

“Can I ask why?” Dean’s voice sounded strange even to his own ears. It was expressionless, matter-of-fact. He couldn’t even control the words coming out of his mouth, it was like they were slipping out of their own free will.

Castiel, to his credit, took the time to think over his reply before he spoke so the words would come out right. In that time, neither of them looked at the other, both preferring to study their abandoned appetisers.

“I was homeless when we met. I put all my faith into my ex-partner and our relationship and when it ended, I was left with nowhere to go. I didn’t want that to happen again. I love you, Dean, but I can’t risk ending up on the streets again.”

Dean opened his mouth and closed it. “Can you explain to me how I’m not supposed to take that badly? Are you planning to have an escape plan for the entirety of our relationship, Cas? If we got married, would you still be leasing this apartment in case we divorce?”

“You’re not being reasonable –”

“No,” Dean cut him off, his voice hardening. “No, I’m being perfectly reasonable. This relationship isn’t going to work if you have one foot out the door from the very start.”

Castiel looked like Dean had just swept the rug out from under him. His blue eyes, that Dean loved to stare into, were foggy and filled with pain. “How can you say that?”

“Because it’s true.” Dean told him quietly, his hands shaking so he balled them into fists to stop the tremors. “And you know that for yourself, because you kept this from me. I would have understood your reasons if you’d told me. At least for a few months. I’ve never begrudged you anything you need to heal from what you went through, have I? But you knew I would feel this way, and you chose to keep it from me.”

Dean rose, setting down his napkin. He needed to get out of here, he couldn’t breathe.

“Wait – Dean, please,” Castiel pleaded, his eyes wide and sad.

Dean just shook his head. “You lied to me, Cas. There’s no explaining that. Just… stay in the guest room when you get home tonight.”

He left the restaurant without looking back, his head bowed so nobody could see the tears that were threatening to spill.

* * *

**+1.**

It took Dean two days to forgive Castiel.

It might have been longer, but the atmosphere between them when they accidentally ran into each other in the house was stifling, and he didn’t manage to get a wink of sleep alone. It quickly became unbearable and eventually he approached a thoroughly desolate Castiel in the living room and embraced him.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel whimpered. “Dean, I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” Dean breathed, burying his face in Castiel’s hair. “I forgive you. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

Castiel shook his head. “I think we should. It wasn’t just the lying that hurt you, Dean. I could see how much it affected you that I made an escape plan. I’d like to talk about that with you. I really think we should discuss it.”

Dean closed his eyes and gathered strength. “Yeah, okay.” He pulled back reluctantly. It was difficult for Dean as he thought over how to broach the subject of something he’d never really spoken about before. Not to anyone. When he finally looked up at Castiel, he hesitated. “I don’t really know where to begin.”

“You think I’m going to run away.” Castiel prompted.

Dean swallowed, feeling a small amount of embarrassment and shame. “Yes and no. You know about my parents. All I had was Sammy. I stayed with him, I raised him while putting myself through college. Then his acceptance letters started turning up and he’d gotten into Stanford. He didn’t apply for any of the local colleges, and it felt like he was running out on me.”

“He wasn’t running away from you, Dean. He was just… trying to live his own life. The difference between us is that I’m also living my own life, but I’ve chosen to do that with you.”

The words affected Dean more deeply than he cared to admit, and he was already feeling pretty raw from talking about his abandonment. “You mean that?”

“I’m in this forever,” Castiel promised him. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Dean leaned in close, drawing comfort from the touch. “Forever sounds pretty good to me.”

Castiel chewed his lip. “I have something to show you.” He eased off the couch and disappeared into the kitchen.

Waiting curiously, Dean wondered whatever this surprise could be. His confusion only increased as Castiel reached for the morning newspaper, flicking through it as he settled on the floor at Dean’s feet. When he reached the classifieds, he stopped and passed the section up to Dean.

It didn’t take him long to see what Castiel was waiting for him to find. The big advertisement for the apartment up for lease was hard to miss. “You gave up the apartment.” Dean breathed, lowering the newspaper to meet Castiel’s gaze.

Castiel nodded. “I might not have known why it was such a big issue for you until now, but I knew that I never wanted to hurt you that way again. As soon as you left me in the restaurant, I terminated the lease and bought out the remaining two months. I love you, Dean. I need you to know that we’re in this together.”

“I do,” Dean assured him, his eyes flickering back to the ad for the apartment. It had been a nice apartment, but it had served its purpose. Now _this_ was Castiel’s home and he would never need a back-up plan again. Dean’s gaze dipped to the ad below and he froze, reading the words printed there.

_Dean, please do me the honour of becoming my husband? Always yours, Castiel._

Dean could do nothing more than stare at the printed ink, his heart thudding wildly in his ears. What? Was this meant for him? How many Castiel’s could there be? He lowered the newspaper slowly, his eyes wide in shock.

Castiel was holding out a shiny platinum band. “I love you,” he said simply. “And every day I spent not being with you has shown me how much that’s true. You changed my life exactly one year ago today when you found me in the rain and now I’d like to change yours, to make you as happy every day as you make me. I’m in this for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”

Dean managed a shaky nod, words failing him completely. The significance of the date had eluded him completely, and he couldn’t believe that this had happened. Blinded by tears of happiness, Dean reached out and cupped Castiel’s face, guiding them together.

And as their lips met, he thanked whatever deity there was for everything that had led him to here.

**Author's Note:**

> [MY TUMBLR](http://blueeyedangel.co.vu)


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